


Court of Spoiling Flesh

by Mollydurrbach



Category: Court of Spoiling Flesh
Genre: 18+, Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Adult Content, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Sex, Anarchy, Assassins, Beauty and the Beast retellingish, Blood Feuds, Blood Kink, Bondage, Castration, Cildmar, Daemons, Dark Magic, Dark Quarter, Democracy, Demons, Demons having blood kink (surprise surprise), Dragons, Drugs, Eating Disorders, Emotional Abuse, Empire, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fae are an afterthought lol, Fae being dicks, Fairy, Fantasy, Female Friendships, Female x Female, Foursome, Friends to Enemies, Gangbang, Gay gods, Goblins, Gore, Healthy Relationships, Homophobia, Incest, Injustices, Irish Mythology - Freeform, Istg if I see y'all sexualizing healthy male friendships, Juvelben, Kink, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Mabjaughnn, Magic, Male-Female Friendships, Mead, Monarchy, Multi, Murder, Mystery, Mythology References, Nobility, Orgy, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform, Personal Growth, Physical Abuse, Princes, Princesses, Queens, Racism, Rape, Religion, Revolution, Rivalry, Romance, Royal familys, Russian Mythology, Sensitive themes, Sex, Sex Slavery, Sex Trafficking, Sexism, Shameless Smut, Smut, Suicide, The Colonies, The Motherlands, Threesome, Torture, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Trauma, Vaginal Sex, Vass array of drugs, Violence, Wars, We demand diversity, Wine, Witches, badass cousins, battles, black market, bloodlines, dark themes, fae, girls supporting girls, guys supporting guys, kings - Freeform, magick, male friendships, male x female, male x male, old feuds, power, sharing a bed trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28138242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollydurrbach/pseuds/Mollydurrbach
Summary: Fear had the power she wanted.Faye Sifvaa has only ever known her tiny village filled with residents who cheated and lied. She wishes for adventure with her friend, Tarian, far away from there; and she gets it in the most terrible, cruel form fate has to offer. When Tarian is stolen away by foreign beasts of the north, Faye must do everything to find the last pieces of her family and entrust her life to the mysterious stranger of the people she hates.She was a stranger in a strange land.Tarian Völtanka is the supposed whore of her village from the talk of men, wishing to flee with Faye to the coast and beyond the warm, green sea. When she's taken by fabled creatures into the belly of the beast, she can only hope to escape with her mind and sanity intact.Stone by stone and an eye for an eye.Slava Khilaaska didn't dare look to the north, afraid to find his own ghosts and those who would eat him alive. However, circumstances change and so do heart, but not his. Never his. Journeying north to find that his beloved and unborn had been murdered, he swears another oath he might be able to keep this time.





	1. Foreword

_This story is for Gram. Who was the first to listen._

~

Started: 04/03/19

This story will contain sensitive themes, such as depression, suicide, anxiety, eating disorders, rape, etc. I will make absolutely sure it isn't romanticized or glorified, and be displayed as accurately as possible.  
Enjoy my lovelies!


	2. Part I

**Winter of the Frozen Dead**

_~_

The Dark Forest.

 _Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead  
_ _Hang stars like seeds of light  
_ _I_ _n vain, though not since they were sown was bred  
_ _Anything more bright._

 _And evermore mighty multitudes ride  
_ _About, nor enter in;  
_ _Of the other multitudes that dwell inside  
_ _Never yet was one seen.  
_

_The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite  
_ _Outside is gold and white,_  
_Nor can those that pluck either blossom greet  
_ _The others, day or night._

Edward Thomas.


	3. Chapter I

Tarian  
Cthonéb, Evandí 59th, 239 AAE

Tarian Voltanka, daughter of the dead spell mistriss of their small mountain village, loved the cold; however, Faye, her brunette friend currently whining behind her, despised it with a passion that should’ve been hot enough to thaw the entire north.  
Yet ironically, she still agreed to come with her out into the frozen mountain side of the Scerea alps. Half willingly however, her mother shooing them both out of the house, raising a suspicious eyebrow from Tarian at sight of a spotless house, honey and creamy pastries stocked in the red and blue ceramic bowl sitting on the dining table. Margan, Faye’s mother and her unacknowledged stepmother, smacked her hand away when she went for one this morning. She hasn’t eaten yet.  
She immediately thought of some potential suitor for the widow, and that Margan wasn’t quite ready to introduce her daughter and ragamuffin adopted to. Faye only complained, telling Tarian from what she heard from her mother, and Faye’s judgement was this man wouldn’t make their business go anywhere.  
Faye sighed behind her in her sweet sounding, accented voice. Her mother tongue, old Tagerian with a hint of Filisch. Which Tarian couldn’t speak no matter what she tried to teach her. She groans, ‘My socks are wet already.’  
‘You’ll be fine.’ She says, noting how she told her to bring her thick wool ones she was gifted earlier this winter before their departure, and her being so skinny didn’t help keep any heat on her.  
Tarian knew these woods like her own seventeen-year-old body, and it being winter and depending on the time of the day, made it easier to navigate. The sun peeked through the cold sky, being selfish with its warmth today and letting the crisp air embrace the two of them instead. It would’ve been better if it was sunny, but the gloom will always be more welcomed than being entirely cloudy or worse, dark. The forest almost being alive in the way it treated its explorers, devouring or guiding its adventurer and everything in between, it treated her quite kindly after having been so respectful to it since she was a babe. Never taking more than she needed and always leaving some offering of meat, bones or sinew behind for the guardians.  
Faye asked, her voice muffled by her thick fur hood, ‘Do you think we’ll catch anything?’  
‘If the forest gods will allow it, then yes.’  
She snorts, ‘There’s no gods anymore.’  
‘Oh? I disagree.’ Tarian smiles, knowing it’d draw out an irate reaction out of her.  
‘Why?’ She wonders.  
Her smile grows, ‘I’ve seen things happen in the woods lately.’  
‘What?’ Faye says hotly, hating not able to know.  
She teases, ‘Oh, I don’t know. A young little lady like you can’t possibly handle the horrors.’  
She felt her come to smack her for mimicking what their priest said to her last fall when she wanted to join her on the annual Daihiemn hunts. She dodges and Faye quips, ‘What is it?’  
Giving in, she lets on, ‘Crows. Lots more crows.’  
She spots one not too far away, listening to them, and points it out to her, ‘Like that one right there.’  
Faye came up beside her, squinting as her poor eyesight hindered her. She frowns, ‘That’s creepy.’  
Tarian shakes her head, ‘It thinks we’ll be feeding it this evening.’  
‘What else?’ Faye pushed, discarding the crow who was now protesting at whatever unseen god who poked at it. The two girls continue to walk to Tarian's favorite perch.  
‘There was a slaughtered cow a few weeks ago in another village-’ She adds, ‘-it’s head was lopped off and it’s heart was missing. Probably a faerie sacrifice; or one for a god.’  
Faye shivered, knowing that the forever young faerie came from their courts and burrows in the ground to slaughter their cattle and sheep as tributes to their sun god of Stry, ‘Disgusting. Don’t the faeries also hold massive orgies with unwilling women as well?’  
Biased but Tarian shrugs, ‘Doubt they’re unwilling and that they’re all women, there’s still fae-worshippers popping up every once and awhile.’  
More things happen than just the senseless murdering of cattle and masses of sex. Some will come down during Kavan Afthal, their ancient seasonal celebration of spring that was as old as the mountains they walked on, crossing the border, to collect their sacrifices from humans or a human sacrifice. This reminds Faye of something because she spoke, ‘Did you hear about the Draulein’s girl? She supposedly disappeared last Aeine and her father’s been awfully quiet about it.’  
She hasn’t heard of this news, which surprised her because the only thing the village folk seem to do is talk. She looks to the crow who flew overhead, their black form in stark contrast to the gloomy grey and monotone sky and spoke lightly, ‘She probably ran away with a lover.’  
‘Or not. They found her body by a creek; they think she was raped and murdered.’  
Tarian's heart fell, no one deserved that. Faye huffs, ‘Poor girl, she wasn’t much older than me. Then again, this was all gossip I heard from mother and her friends in the parlor last fortnight.’  
She finds her own frown and carefully spoke to stoke no fire, ‘You shouldn’t believe everything your mother says Faye. You know she’s known for exaggerating.’  
The girl sighs, ‘Yes, I know.’  
They make ten steps before she asks another question, ‘What are children of the forest?’  
Tarian stills for a moment. Calming her heart and replying, ‘Out of superstition, we don’t speak of them in their home.’  
‘Oh.’ Faye says, ‘You do know what they are right?’  
‘Yes. I’d tell you but they tend to be listening. Especially to hunters.’  
Faye laughs and she doesn’t join in, ‘You’re serious?’  
She turns to study Faye’s slender, perplexed face, and attempt to wave it off, ‘Yes. It’s wise to not speak of them at this moment. Bad luck and such.’  
She burst out howling, holding her stomach and Tarian was almost insulted, ‘You are one strange hunter my friend.’  
She smiles, fear almost forgotten and corrects her, ‘The best strange hunter, and for reward for my respect for the forest is having the best catches every time.’  
Faye laughs again, ‘Well you didn’t do too well last fall.’  
‘No one did, the northerners are hogging all the prey.’ It was true, the northerners did pick apart last year's animals and took the best and most plump from the fruitful summer’s feed, and when the time came for the animals to travel south and run away from the cold, there was barely enough for our village. Tarian even had trouble tracking down and finding them, making her doubt her own impressive, prized skills. Which she considers her entire personality.  
‘Selfish, piggish northerners. All high horses and needless glamour, and absolutely selfish bastards.’  
She laughs, ‘Yes. That is true.’  
An aristocratic, military kingdom ruled by the faery's Golden King, with a belly so large it took ten cows to fill or sixteen full grown men. The colony's settlements in which Faye and her lived in were only there because their queen, Queen Branwenn II of Motherlands, signed a contract with the Golden King for her people to come live here. Which Tarian was thankful for, because she’s heard of the expansive massive cities in the Motherlands were cramped and overfilled with people. And smelled of feces and piss.  
‘Hey Tarian look.’  
She looks to Faye pushing up her pale, freckled nose with a finger and snorting, ‘Ayyyy I’m the Goblin King!’  
Any other place, this would’ve gotten them killed but she laughs.  
Faye dances around her, shouting and snorting in a high squeaky voice, ‘I love bone broth and flies on a skewer!’  
Faye then pushed up Tarian’s nose and encouraged, ‘All hail the Goblin King, let’s hear ye!’  
She snorts, ‘Absolutely not.’  
Faye then falls in the snow, arse first, and Tarian giggles like a smitten fourteen-year-old, ‘Are you drunk?’  
‘No!’ She says very unconvincingly.  
She grabs her hand, hauling her up, ‘Let’s stay on task.’  
Faye lets out a long sigh, resting her hands on her hips, ‘Fine. But tell me honestly, I’d make a wonderful jester.’  
Her smile hurt her face, ‘Fit for the Golden King’s court.’  
Faye barked a laugh.

Tarian led the way to her favorite spot, a nook just before a small drop-off that towered over a creek. Staying still, having clothing that blended in and the wind in their favor, the animal that walked in wouldn’t notice them. Hopefully they would make it there, have an hour or two, then head back before dark.  
Before they got to the cliff nook, they pass an abnormally large stone that towered over them, deep runes carved into it’s flat face and almost seemed to glow and sing in the faint sun. Faye was curious as to what it was and she tells her was an ancient shrine for the forest gods, specifically one with a name Tarian couldn’t pronounce and frankly didn’t mind not being able to as the legend told of its preference for children sacrifices.  
As much as Tarian’s grandfather was a full blooded Teravmenian, a born and raised far easterner who came to the colonies during the Red rebellion and huge engulfing fires that destroyed his homeland 50 years ago, he taught her that names have power in these forests and mountains. Use the names foolishly and be prepared to meet the bearer of that name.  
She also points out smaller shrines peeking out of the snow. Faye, then satisfied with her answers, continues to follow her. The sun still tried to break through the clouds as they arrived. The creek below had already frozen, only a circle of thawed ice allowed the animals to sip from the rushing freezing waters beneath.  
Tarian leapt down to the ledge first, offering Faye a hand and she didn't take it, hissing, ‘I can take care of myself.’  
She had to stifle a laugh, or she’d get smacked. The friends sat together, waiting, Faye knowing better than to talk and scare whatever beast was out there. Tarian and Faye have known each other since they were little, their mothers being close friends before Tarian’s birth had caused her mother’s death. She lived with her grandfather until the cold, harsh winters drove him mad and he was deemed unable to take care of the little Teravmenian.  
So, she went to Margan, the widow didn’t have much say in the matter and she hated that. Making it her goal in life to remind Tarian everyday in some way or another she hated her. For killing her dearest friend or burdening her family with an unruly, uncontrollable orphan, whichever option Margan felt fit the mood that day. Today, if she guessed correctly, she was a burden which never and couldn’t leave because she supplied free labor, and she kept the mothering, nurturing image of Margan, even though she was anything but that to her.   
She shivers as a chill crawls into her clothes. She’d never tell Faye what she thought of her mother. Preferring to think if she kept quiet, it wouldn’t rip her and her mother apart. Yet somehow, Tarian knew Faye knew, but chose to ignore it. She also knew Faye wouldn’t choose to run away because of her mother.  
The air stills. ‘Tarian. Look.’ , she points at something in the trees.  
She never noticed the grey form of a snow bear, or perhaps a wolf, trudging in the snow towards the creek. She wanted to smack herself for not seeing it. Focus. Be aware or be dead.  
Faye grabs her hand abruptly. Tarian flinches. About to yank her hand away until she noticed her eyes, fear.  
She whispers, low as the wind, ‘What’s wrong?’  
As much time as Faye spent in the workplace at home sewing clothes with her mother, her instincts for danger were sharp and she didn't need to tell her they were screaming at her right now. She hardly heard her say, ‘We should leave.’  
Looking back to the beast in the woods, it padded elegantly through the clearing.  
A wolf.  
A huge wolf.  
Bigger than most farm horses. Packless and matte grey fur, it didn’t make a sound. They freeze together, daring not breathe as it might hear. The wolf patiently took it’s share from the waterhole.  
Tarian wanted to draw her bow, not to shoot it with intent of taking it home, but if it came after them. Even if it came after them, it would swallow them whole. She gazes over to Faye, her eyes were squeezed shut, not even looking at the potential danger below them. Wishing it away.  
She couldn’t even hear it lapping. Staring at it made her skin tight and eyes water, a weight pulling her towards them. As if it wasn't of this world. As if it's presence in this realm made the fabrics of time bend into it.  
Faye squeezes her hand. Tarian whispered comfortingly, like a mother to her child, ‘It will leave.’  
She still didn’t open her eyes as Tarian unthreaded her hand from hers. Grabbing her bow and continues to watch the abnormal creature drink, counting the seconds that went by.  
1  
2  
3  
4  
5  
6  
7  
8  
9  
10  
11  
12  
13  
14…  
The wolf lifted it’s head at 47 and looked directly at them. She stilled, the frozen air around them strained like a million threads under a stone.  
It turns to look at Faye, then back at her. Tarian and the grey wolf stared at each other, and a tear from her eyes watering dripped down her chin.  
It turns around and stalks back into the woods. Leaving like it was never here. Never existed. Her lungs hurt from the breath she’d been holding. Her pulse thundered in her neck as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Slowly turning to Faye, who now had her eyes open. They look at each other.  
‘Let’s go.’ Is all she says, and she didn’t have to say another word as they both left.


	4. Aiß Se Signa Calender

**Aiß Se Neriaheim  
** -clock-

111 minutes per hour  
1111 seconds in a hour

Dawn  
 **Äwne** 1-9th hours  
 **Darir** 10-18th hours

Day  
 **Dagan** 19-27th hours  
 **Nülí** 28-36th hours  
 **Nol** 37-45th hours

Twilight   
**Cíarad** 46-54th hours   
**Cthlona** 55-63rd hours

Night   
**Cíldoth** 64-72nd hours  
 **Ailiß** 73-81st hours  
 **Airam** 82-90 hours

 **Aiß** 0 hour

90 hours in the full cycle  
9999 hours in a full cycle  
99990 seconds in a full cycle

**Aiß Se Sigg  
** -week-

10 days in a week  
Stryb  
Cthonéb  
Tøth   
Aeine  
Daiva  
Gøkk  
Strakk  
Naivig  
Hemnéb  
Soßí

**Aiß Se Signa  
** -the cycle-

 **Iolina Saschne   
**1 day  
Iolina Saschne is only one day, signifying the beginning of a new year. The holiday held of this day is called Nokkhel.

 **Gideor tair Gefinya   
**1 day   
Gideor tair Gefinya is considered the day you are closest to heaven, it is the day of life restarting.

**Vänl**   
-spring-  
In foisch, Vänl means spring and Vänä is a popular girl's name in the west.

 **Avänl**   
10 days  
Avänl is the celebratory week of winter going into spring. Most tend to plant a seed of sorts in a small pot engraved with prayers to Hedel Paiva.

 **Nelfheim**   
66 days  
Nelfheim is the first kekrir of Vänl, and has a total of 6 weeks and 6 days. This kekrir is the holder of the holiday Aldheim which is on Nelfheim 47th. It celebrates the moons in the sky and light magick of their god, Ilver.

 **Kekl**   
67 days  
Kekl is the second kekrir of Vänl, and has a total of 6 weeks and 7 days. This kekrir is the holder of Usleimn, a holiday to honor the old gods of Stryean, it is on Kekl 8th.

 **Mävä**   
68 days  
Mävä is the third kekrir of Vänl, and has a total of 6 weeks and 8 days. This kekrir is the holder of Hanaiam, a day for femininity and to honour your sisters, mother, grandmas, aunts, cousins, your lover and female friends. It is on Mävä 16th.

 **Beczhky**   
70 days   
Beczhky is the fourth kekrir, and has a total of 7 weeks, making it a holy kekrir because of the number 7. It is the holder of the holiday Marydolf, which celebrates fertility and blossoms. It is on Beczhky 20th.

 **Vorh**   
72 days   
Vorh is the fifth kekrir, and has a total of 7 weeks and 2 days. Vorh is the holder of Sannikia, a five day festival of colour and rich, spicy foods. Taking place on Vorh 32nd.

 **Madaon**   
90 days  
Madaon is the sixth kekrir, having a total of 9 weeks. Madaon has the celebration of Se Laura, a tribute to the goddess of life, Hedel Paiva.

 **Kavan Afthal   
**12 days   
Kavan Afthal is the seventh and last kekrir of Vänl. Having a total of 1 week and 2 days.

**Sömmer**  
-summer-  
Sömmer is summer and the season of Stry, our sun god.

 **Sammeriul**   
10 days   
Sammeriul is the celebratory week of spring turning into summer. Most will sacrifice a spring lamb or calve for the sun god Stry.

 **Seltas**   
70 days   
Seltas is first kekrir of Sömmer, with a total of 7 weeks making it a holy kekrir. Seltas is the beholder of the holiday Böll, which a competition and rites are held for the children that came of age that year. Girls who are menstruating this day are consider blessed by Stry himself. Is on Seltas 51st.

 **Letan**   
68 days   
Letan is the second kekrir of Sömmer, having 6 weeks and 8 days. Letan holds the three day celebration of Knulla, which celebrates pleasure, sex and fertility. It is on Letan 21st.

 **Etnizch**   
75 days   
Etnizch is the third kekrir of Sömmer, having 7 weeks and 5 days. Etnizch holds the celebration Mayala, a day to enjoy family and the summer gods for blessing us. On Etnizch 75th.

 **Tähtiva**   
67 days   
Tähtiva is fourth of Sömmer's kekrirsa, a total of 6 weeks and 7 days. Theas is celebrated on Tähtiva 59th, the Stryeans will harvest their first fruit and honor the midsummer.

 **Kësa  
** 62 days  
Kësa is the fifth kekrir, having 6 weeks and 2 days, Kësa is the holder of Cennria, honoring the water gods, rainfall and the sea. Most will spend the entire day in the water of Kësa 44th.

 **Ishna Leto   
**90 days   
Ishna Leto is the final and longest kekrir of Sömmer, with a total of 9 weeks. Ishna Leto holds the biggest and most celebrated day of them all, Stryvia, where they honor our sun god Stry. They harvest their first harvest and second fruit. On Ishna Leto 70th.

 **Samad Afthal   
**13 days   
Samad Afthal is the final week and seventh kekrir of Sömmer, having 1 week and 3 days.

**Gideor tae Cthona   
**1 day   
Gideor tae Cthona is considered the day where you can be the closest to Hel possible, no one does anything this day and the doors are painted with red paint in honor of their death god, Cthonisa.

**Autheim**  
-autumn-  
Autheim is fall, when the seeds planted in Vänl start to turn.

 **Autelia**   
10 days  
Autelia is the time where summer turns into autumn. Many will prepare food for winter in this one week. Has 1 week.

 **Nawä**   
62 days   
Nawä is the first kekrir of Autheim, and having a total of 6 weeks and 2 days. Nawä has Daihiemn as it's holiday, Daihiemn is when the first hunt of the year is held and courting and mating rituals are quite common on this day as well. It is on Nawä 2nd.

 **Eftheim**   
70 days   
Eftheim is the second kekrir of Autheim, having a total of 7 weeks and making it a holy month like it's other siblings. Eftheim is the beholder of Hobhai, day of the second hunt and they honor the thinning Víl between worlds. Hobhai is on Eftheim 70th.

 **Ceia**   
68 days   
Ceia is the third kekrir, a total of 6 weeks and 8 days. Ceia has Daiheim, a day to celebrate masculinity with friendly competitions, and our fathers, grandfathers, brothers, uncles, cousin, your lover and friends. Daiheim is on Ceia 55th.

 **Tudeneim**   
68 days   
Tudeneim is the fourth kekrir, with 6 weeks and 8 days, making it Ceia's sibling in Autheim. Tudeneim has Bethar, which holds the last harvest and is a day to honor the old gods with sacrifices of our harvests. It is on Tudeneim 17th.

 **Helf**   
72 days   
Helf is the fifth kekrir, with 7 weeks and 2 days. Helf is the holder of Svebalt, Svebalt holds a huge feast that night to honor the beloved and unnamed dead. Svebalt is on Helf 13th.

 **Reggor**   
93 days  
Reggor is the sixth kekrir, having 9 weeks and 3 days. Reggor holds the last holiday of Autheim, Mannír. Mannír honors the dark and old gods that are about to send winter upon us and also is the beholder of the last hunt. It is on Reggor 70th.

 **Aumar Afthal   
**12 days   
Aumar Afthal is the final and seventh kekrir of Autheim, and has a total of 1 week and 2 days. Many will spend these 12 days preparing for winter and readying their food supply.

**Zïmna  
** -winter-  
Zïmna is winter, in foisch it means snow. Zïmna used to be called Cthonänil, which meant season of Cthona.

 **Zïnteir**   
10 days  
Zïnteir is the celebratory week of autumn going into winter, with a total of 1 week.

 **Ïma**   
69 days   
Ïma is the first kekrir of Zïmna, with a total of 6 weeks and 9 days. Ïma is the holder of Dömma, which celebrates the coming of night, winter and snowfall. Dömma is on Ïma 63rd.

 **Gavennes**   
69 days   
Gavennes is the second kekrir of Zïmna, having a total of 6 weeks and 9 days, making it Ïma's sibling. Gavennes is the holder of Uöll, celebrating music and love. Honoring the goddesses of the arts, most give gifts to their loved ones this day. Uöll is on Gavennes 62nd.

 **Zivnïda**   
80 days   
Zivnïda is the third kekrir, a total of 8 weeks. Zivnïda is the holder of Callanam, which celebrates loved ones like spouses and lovers, it is common for proclamations of love and marriage proposals to made this day. Callanam is on Zivnïda 8th.

 **Zivmtri**   
99 days  
Zivmtri is the fourth kekrir, and has a total of 9 weeks and 9 days, and is the longest kekrir in the Aiß Se Signa. Zivmtri is the holder of Ankill, which is the celebration of fire, heat, and the forge. Honoring the god of the inner earth, Jahnekinel. Ankill is on Zivmtri 20th.

 **Altel**   
24 days   
Altel is the fifth kekrir, and has a total of 2 weeks and 4 days, and it is the shortest kekrir of the Aiß Se Signa. Altel has the holiday Om Raiva, which is the celebration of stars, the healing of Víl and the dark magic of Helm. Om Raiva is on Altel 14th.

 **Evandí**   
91 days   
Evandí is the sixth kekrir, and has 9 weeks and 1 day. Evandí is the holder the holiday of Hellas, the day of Helm and Hel, and dark magic. Hellas is on Evandí 70th.

 **Ïmayla Afthal   
**13 days   
Ïmayla Afthal is the final and seventh kekrir of Zïmna, having 1 week and 3 days. Most will prepare for the end of the year and the beginning of the next one.

**Cthonia Aam   
**1 day   
Cthonia Aam is one day, signifying the end of the year. The holiday on this day is Nakvanhel, celebrating when Aiß strikes.


End file.
